


orion take off your belt (let me go to where you've been before)

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Antarctic Empire, M/M, Piglin!Techno, hence the wings, no beta we die like wilbur, phil is some kind of ancient End creature, the major character death is just wilbur's canon death, this is rushed and not beta'd, voiceoverpete is mentioned like once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Wilbur ran away on their five-year anniversary. It wasn't really running away – Techno and Phil had known he'd leave soon, wanderlust evident in every gaze he cast at the migrating birds in the transitionary seasons, obvious in the way he drowned himself in books and stories.///How Wilbur grew up a prince and died a traitor, told by Techno.///no, Phil and Techno are not related ffs
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108
Collections: Anonymous





	orion take off your belt (let me go to where you've been before)

**Author's Note:**

> go read "The Song of Wandering Aengus" and then try to tell me that that's not a c!Wilbur kinda poem. The love interest is a fish ffs.

It had been a shock to Techno, finding out that his co-king was a father. He'd first met the kid on a cold summer morning, when the sun stood high above the Antarctic for the longest days, offering no warmth. Phil had come back from a trip to North America – some trade agreement to be settled with Florida – with a bouncing toddler on his shoulders and an apologetic smile on his lips, accompanied by a hurried explanation about his mother falling ill. 

His name was Wilbur and he was three years old, something he proudly demonstrated by holding up a chubby hand and sticking out three fingers, forgetting for a moment that he was wearing mittens and Techno couldn't see what he was doing. He was bright and happy, spending hours upon hours staring out the window at the blizzards that occupied their lands. He liked watching the birds, too, Techno soon learned when the kid joined him in staring at the migrating flocks. It was the first time Techno and Wilbur spent together, but the large windowsill in the main hall would become a meeting place for them in years to come. 

Wilbur was six when Techno's gazes started to linger on Phil's face for longer than he'd like to admit, and Techno would spend a whole year reveling in the simple acceptance of the fact that he was in love with his companion. 

Wilbur was seven when Phil smacked Techno upside the head and called him an idiot for not realizing it was mutual, no malice in his tone. Those next five years would be spent in a content bliss, the family – which included Pete as Wilbur's uncle, of course – living out their long days and longer nights on the South Pole with only a few dog fights and some war crimes being committed. 

Wilbur was eight when he first called Techno his dad. 

At twelve, Wilbur walked down the aisle at a small gathering with a soft pillow in his hands, carefully carrying the two simple bands down the aisle. Techno's was obsidian Phil had personally gone to get from his hometown in the End, Phil's was made from the first gold that Techno ever mined, way back when he was two feet high and lived in the Nether. 

Wilbur ran away on their five-year anniversary. It wasn't _really_ running away – Techno and Phil had known he'd leave soon, wanderlust evident in every gaze he cast at the migrating birds in the transitionary seasons, obvious in the way he drowned himself in books and stories. He'd always liked it when Techno read to him at night, even if it was just the same three poems over and over again until Wilbur could recite them as well as Techno. 

He'd left, as he explained in a note found on his dresser the next morning, because he wanted to see the world, become his own man, start his own legacy. Phil hadn't cried then, sipping his coffee with the paper in his hand, and he hadn't cried over his son for the next years, either. 

It was two years later when they next heard from Wilbur. The update came in the form of a letter and some photos. The first picture showed Wilbur in front of a van with his arm around a woman who seemed around his age. Both of them were absolutely drenched but smiling widely. “Will and Sally's date went well...” the messy ink on the back read, and it wasn't Wilbur's handwriting. 

The other pictures included one of him and his friends, some photos of birds that he'd thought Techno might like, a few of some large blackstone walls, and two more of Wilbur and Sally. The last photo was the one Techno liked to think about the least. 

It was a picture of Wilbur, no Sally by his side, with a baby in his arms. 

Four more years found Techno abandoning his throne to help Wilbur, moving into a ravine with him and regularly writing Phil. He kept some details out, though, because Wilbur was twenty-three now, and he was asking Techno to read to him again, and he was using that voice he'd always used when he was an upset little kid. He'd asked him for The Song of Wandering Aengus, a poem Techno didn't need to hold to know, and his lips had formed the words alongside his father as he drifted off to sleep in the rumble of his voice. 

Wilbur stayed inside most days, and Techno watched the birds alone those years in the ravine, remembering the bright giggles Wilbur used to give when a particularly large swarm flew overhead – remembering, too, the way Phil had liked to fly with the flocks, and Will would happily point him out as if Techno couldn't see that one of the birds was quite a bit bigger than the others. He wished for the loud rustle of wings behind him now, as he fiddled with the ring that hung around his neck, just to wrap around him and tell him what to do. Wilbur was fading, and Techno couldn't do anything but stare. 

The wings arrived after all, and Techno lost everything that day. 

Time found him burying an empty casket, his husband at his side. Phil hadn't cried then, either, watching with silent horror as they lowered the pretend body of his son into the ground. Staring as Techno shoveled the dirt on top of him, tears streaming down his face. 

They laid Wilbur on top of the mountain by their cottage, somewhere under the open sky where he could see the birds. His gravestone was made from blackstone, something to keep him safe, and Techno wondered about how L'Manburg was grieving their former president. He chose not to think about the hesitant celebrations the inhabitants had held when the destruction was over. He didn't remember that this was the only grave Wilbur had. And he definitely pretended not to see the occasional flash of orange fur on top of the hill. 

He'd visit him sometimes, just to watch the sky or recite the Song again. 

It had been a year to the day when Techno arrived at the top of the hill and Fundy didn't move from his spot. Instead, the kid sat still as Techno mumbled the poem under his breath, clinging to every word as if it would teach him more about his parents. As if Techno had answers that Fundy couldn't comprehend. 

Fundy asked his wordless questions, and Techno replied without hesitation, wrapping his cloak around the boy – his grandson – before going back down to the valley and telling Phil. 

That day, for the first time in a very long time, Phil cried for his son. 

**Author's Note:**

> For real, though, go google the poem. It's really short and also my favorite, even if the wording is a little clunky here and there.


End file.
